So last week I failed to post on this story and I apologize for that. What I had I felt didn’t live up to what I had previously posted. I still don’t. But, something needs to be posted because this story is far from over.
Most of it I did today since I didn’t have a lot of time during the week.
The picture for today I thought would do well to be humorous, especially since I previously said I wouldn’t post anything that had real people in it. It’s from one of the articles from http://www.nhscouting.org
“I don’t see what his problem has to do with me. It’s not my fault he decided to spazz out.”
“What another patient talks about normally wouldn’t be anyone else’s business, but Marcus … well he repeatedly states that you were injured.”
“Listen isn’t there something else we can possibly talk about?”
I don’t know why she’s telling me that, it’s not going to change my opinion of things. We’ve been doing nothing but talk about that idiot Marcus this entire session and frankly I’m fucking tired of it now. It wasn’t so bad for the first 5 minutes … maybe even less than that. I mean he’s cute and all for being a fucktard, but these sessions aren’t supposed to be about anyone but … well … me … and maybe Krystal.
Wait. Maybe they’re trying to get to me, win my trust, or piss me off so I’ll start talking more about things that aren’t any of their business. Those bastards!
The Bitch is speaking now, but I’m only half paying attention. So he mentioned me. Huh, he mentioned me. Gah! Did he happen to mention that he wasn’t nice to me while trying to make like he was Casanova or something? Ha! Probably not. I signed a paper on it, they have to have it.
I guess I should at least be grateful that he’s not in here with us. I’m not sure how that would make me feel, but I’m going to guess not very good. I really don’t want to see him. I think I hate him.
I know I’ve always hated this room. No windows except for the front door, so no way to look out to escape from this interrogation. Unless I look out the front door, but that would put me right next to said Bitch and I really don’t feel like being that close to her.
“I think we’re done.” I think I’ve said that like twenty times. But it worked this time. There’s Jimmy, ready to take me to my room, or somewhere.
“How are you feeling today, Marcus?” Dr. Monisht asked as he walked through the front door of Marcus’ room. “Do you think today will be a good day to have a session outside?”
Silence.
Dr. Monisht looked over and saw Marcus rocking back and forth and staring straight ahead to the wall opposite his bed. Bami stayed by the front door for only a minute, then walked over to a chair that sat by the bathroom door.
“Is there anything you’d like to discuss?”
Still nothing.
Since the day the nurse, Valerie if he remembered correctly, found him, he had been in a near-fetal position: legs bent, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs and holding them tight against him. The only difference between that day and today is position – he was no longer on the floor. They had somehow managed to convince him to move thus allowing them to clean him up. But he quickly got on the bed and resumed the same position. Nothing they had done would move him off.
They also had to cover the window – draw the shades and pull closed the curtains. He didn’t want to look out.
“I have some correspondence for you – from your family I believe.” He half stood off the chair and gently tossed the letters on the corner of the bed – right over others that he had been bringing to him for the past week.
So far, only Dr. Monisht, Clyde, Marcus’ probation officer and his friend Ray-Ray were the only people who could enter his room without setting him off on a tirade of science fiction rants.
Dr. Monisht wrote a few things on Marcus’ file attached to his clipboard. This wasn’t good. If they weren’t able to bring him back from wherever he currently was, he would have to be moved to the other section of the facility.
Bami sighed and wrote a few more things on the file. “You’ve been scheduled for physical therapy this afternoon, Marcus. I hope you’re well enough to join.”
Marcus stopped rocking for only a moment, but it was enough to give his doctor some hope that maybe he was reaching him. But when the athlete started up again, Dr. Monisht closed his eyes and shook his head.
He stood up and headed to the front door. “I will return again tomorrow, Marcus.”
“She’s ok, right Doc? She … she’s alive?”
Bami turned around quickly and looked at Marcus. His eyes were still clouded over and staring blankly at the wall but he had stopped rocking again. “Yes, Marcus. She’s perfectly fine.”
“This is unacceptable!” Dr. Thomas stated loudly as he slammed his hand on the table. “We need to find out what’s going on and no! The idea of our facility being haunted or cursed is not an option!”
The weekly staff meeting started this morning on a bad note and gradually disintegrated as time passed.
“Enriqueta Valencia, aka Val, and Marcus Williams – our celebrity. One of them showing symptoms of regression that had nothing to do with what he was admitted for! And the panic that occurred because the other was thought to have bled to death! Would someone care to tell me exactly what the hell is going on?”
The room was eerily quiet as the staff re-examined notes and fidgeted in their seats.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our board of directors will not stand for this. They threw a fit when that TMZ report came out. This, however, may very well shut us down – permanently. So flights of fancy regarding vampires, voodoo, ghosts and witchcraft, among other things … no! Someone has somehow gained access into our building and patient rooms – possible our patient files and caused a disturbance and we need to find out who, how and we need to shut it down. Now!”
“Were you able to get anything from Ms. Valencia, Claire?”
“I’m afraid not, Bami. After three minutes of discussing the incident, she closed off. The only good thing out of it is knowing she isn’t suffering from Hypovolemic shock.”
“So whatever Marcus saw was not blood loss. Menstrual?”
“No. Because of her admission status, she’s monitored, it’s not her time.”
“It is possible that his past substance abuse may have caused him to hallucinate…” Nurse Valerie started.
“That I am aware of he has been clean for almost eight months.” Dr. Monisht interrupted.
“Mebbe someone slipped him a Mickey.” Clyde offered.
“So you’re suggesting that a member of my staff is providing him substances that are offsetting his current treatment?” Dr. Thomas asked.
Clyde looked down. “Dr. Thomas, in all da years I am working here ain’t no one never had access to none of them drugs what don’t go through my staff. They are checked an’ double checked and don’t get no key until we is a hunnud per cent sure they are good. We have three people, me and Valerie evvy day and you once a month go over that drug inventory. Ain’t nothing added, ain’t nothing missin’. If he got something, it was from somewhere else.”
Sebastian smiled. “Thank you, Clyde. So somehow one or both of the other wings need to be monitored and anyone from the outside as well.” He took a deep breath. “Then starting immediately, provided the Board agrees, anyone moving between areas needs to be checked for unauthorized substances…”
The Writings of a Character Named Dazrahe 